


no 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me

by rottenkiwis



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Wholesome, but no i will not elaborate, dream and george are mentioned in one sentence, i focus so hard on phil im so fucking sorry i tried not to, i wrote this instead of homework uh oh, its like. implied fantasy slash medieval au i guess, just good vibes, lol, lowercase intended, niki eret and tubbo are siblings :), none of sbi are human or just normal, piglin hybrid techno, same with eret, sleepy bois inc family time, this is a nice chill fic i promise, uhhhhh, winged phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27552343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rottenkiwis/pseuds/rottenkiwis
Summary: fantasy/medieval sbi but i dont explain anything it's just how their morning goestitle: from eden by hozier
Relationships: haha fuck you, ill eat you alive
Comments: 6
Kudos: 89





	no 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me

**Author's Note:**

> i got stuck on tommy innit sharp teeth and i ended up about 2k words deep in ................ this. lol if you see any fuck ups no you dont!

the small home is warm. the fireplace in the kitchen couldn't have been lit more than an hour ago, flames high with new wood being charred. the light from it bounces off the shelves lined with various books and trinkets. there’s crooked photos hung up around the walls, like the person who did it was too short to reach. there’s blankets of various colors and heaviness thrown haphazardly across the back of a worn couch, and two chairs on either side of it with a disheveled looking journal sitting on the arm of one. an atmosphere of magic has settled amongst the home for as long as they’d lived here, laying thick across the shoulders of its occupants. intertwined along the very body of the family and the objects they call claim to. two brothers are sat at the table in the center of the room, a loud voice pointedly speaking to the older one.

“will- wilbur. i’m telling a very exciting story, i feel like you’re not listening to me right now.”

“because i’m not, tommy.” the blond throws his hands up in the air. he grumbles something under his breath, scambling in the chair so he can huddle his knees up into his chest before biting down on the small loaf of bread in his hands with overdramatic anger. 

another man comes down the stairs a moment later, the sound of his wings brushing against the steps making the two at the table glance up. 

“tommy, what did i tell you about eating the loaves? we have knives and butter, you aren’t starved of options,” phil sighs as he looks at his youngest hold the food, “just a loaf of bread for breakfast isn’t good for a boy your age.”

“but _phil!_ who needs knives when i got these sharp teeth! it’s so much more fun to just-” tommy’s cut off from his argument as wilbur smacks under his chin, his teeth clacking together when his mouth is shut. tommy grimaces at the feeling of his sharp canines scaping against his bottom lip.

“don’t talk with your mouth full so close to me, you gremlin child. crumbs are going everywhere.” wilbur scoffs, beginning to shuffle together the papers he had spread out in front of him. he pretends to swipe off various bread crumbs from the parchment. tommy mocks offense for a second before deflating across the table, the pout on his face asking for their father to jump to his rescue. phil, instead, plucks the loaf from his hands with a laugh and moves over to the counter to grab the small butter knife.

“speaking of tommy’s sharp teeth,” phil starts, quickly slicing off a few pieces of the bread, “have you been having any luck with using your guitar to help you cast glamour easier?”

“i wrote a few short ones with words that may work, but i haven’t had the chance to test them.” phil sets a few buttered slices of bread in front of tommy, and keeping one for himself. 

“i’ll see when i can get a day off to help out maybe,” wilbur nods with an affirmative hum, tucking the few papers under his guitar in the case before latching it closed. phil leans against the back of the couch calmly, before finishing the bread in his hand with a few more bites. with a swipe of his hand against his pants, he calls out towards the stairs,

“techno! have you got the wheat basket we promised niki? the sun’s mostly risen past the watch tower by now, her and tubbo should be here soon.” tommy perks his head up from his eating at the mention of his friend, making wilbur snicker next to him.

it’s quiet for a moment, before there’s a muted _thump_ above their heads and techno appears at the steps, handing the basket over the railing to phil. he grins, stepping over to gently take it from techno’s hand with a thankful nod. it’s a decently sized basket, the bundles of wheat tucked up in a cloth so it doesn’t fall out between the traveling around town. it’s not all the wheat from the small section techno has of it, but he mentioned how he planted it at different times, so the rest must not ready for harvest. phil looks back up at techno, looking him over momentarily before frowning slightly. 

“how much did you sleep?” a grunt comes from techno as he comes down the rest of the steps to stop in front of phil. he’s a good head taller, and phil’s frown doesn’t lessen as he gets a closer look. tucking the basket handle into the crook of his elbow, phil gently runs two fingers underneath techno’s eyes. the light puffiness lifts, smoothing out the pale skin and techno blinks a few times as he adjusts to it. techno rubs the area of his face where his tusks touch his cheek, and phil lets his hand go back to his side.

“better, now get a few hours tonight before you drop dead in your potato fields.” techno grunts again, stepping away from phil to make a small breakfast. the man takes that sound as agreement.

there’s a lull in speaking. wilbur messes with the latches and seams on his guitar case, furrowing his brows at a small section where the thread looks to be coming apart. techno chops a potato at the counter, a pan heating up over the fireplace behind him with sizzling oil. tommy brushes the crumbs off his shirt and clears his throat to speak.

“phil, could you do your cool magic stuff to make me an even bigger man?” tommy asks, genuine curiosity in his gaze as he looks over to his father. it quickly turns to annoyance as phil bursts out laughing, having to put a hand to his chest to keep himself from doubling over. wilbur laughs rise beside tommy as he flails his arms while trying to better explain himself. techno smiles as he turns to check the pan’s heat with his hand, and tosses the diced potatoes into the pan. phil heaves a breath after another bout of chuckles, adjusts his wings to a more comfortable position after they seemed to have fluffled them in his laughter, and he looks at tommy with a sad smile. the older man sets a hand on tommy's head with a breathy sigh. (he can feel the small horns against his palm through tommy's hair. they should be more noticable within a few years.)

“i wish i could tommy, truly, but-” he’s stopped short by rapid knocking on the door. tommy’s mood shifts again, eyes lighting up as he jumps from his chair to run to the door. wilbur quickly reaches out to catch the chair before it tips over, pushing it into place before he stands as well. 

“tubbo!” tommy says loudly as he opens the door, grinning widely at his friend as the other bounds to hug him quickly in greeting. niki stands next to him, having her own smaller basket tucked into her arms as she glaces at the two boys with a smile. she looks over to phil inside, waving her hand to him as he steps up to the doorway as well. 

“good morning, phil! i tried out some new recipes for some custard pies, and i brought a few over for you guys to try before i put them up for sell in the bakery.” she speaks softly with the two boys talking beside her, but phil manages smiles warmly at her with his full attention anyways.

“thank you, niki. i’m sure tommy will be excited for have some new desserts in the house, the boys know i’m only able to cook dinner and bake bread,” he chuckles to himself, lifting the wheat basket from his arm to offer it to niki, “techno harvested some of his wheat, hopefully this can last you long enough before the rest of it is ready.”

she takes it out of his hands, trading the small basket holding the wrapped pies with him, nodding gratefully with a grin. “this is more than enough, thank you! i still have some flour left over as well, so this will go a long way in the bakery.”

“that’s always good to hear.” phil turns to hand the pies to wilbur, who goes to set them on the dining table and throws his guitar case over his shoulder on the way back. tommy and tubbo move off of the doorstep, standing in the small alleyway as they chatter excitedly. 

the alleyway is narrow, the houses closely built to each other and the cobblestone path is empty at the moment, no one taking the backways through the residences this early in the day. niki and tubbo live closer to the town center, in the marketplace, having rooms above the bakery niki works. eret isn’t stood at the alley’s entrance today, so it's safe to assume the oldest sibling was at an early shift at the watch tower near the edge of town. 

wilbur steps out onto the road next to niki, starting up a small conversation with her. (as he steps past phil into the morning, the unnatural gray hue of his skin dissipates into something more lively, and the sharpness of his ears round off.) phil turns to techno in the kitchen. he watches as techno moves the pan to flip the potatoes one last time.

“do you have rounds in the forest today? or is it farming only?”

“i got a shift later in the day, but i’ll be watchin’ the potatoes until then. i’ll be leaving in a few, though.” techno moves to face phil, holding a pan with cooked potatoes in one hand, a spice container in the other. he sets down the spices to pick up one of the hot potato pieces, popping it in his mouth without a second thought. phil wishes he had the heat tolerance of a piglin sometimes.

“alright then, wilbur will be with me at the stand today. stay safe, techno.”

“always do.” 

phil gives one last nod to his middle child, and follows the rest of them outside, shutting the door behind himself. tommy rushes up to him once he gets out, hands on his shoulders and slightly shaking the man. his feathers ruffle as he jumps in slight surprise from the boy suddenly jumping on him.

“tommy, _please-_ ”

“philza minecraft! tubbo wants to show me this bee hive he saw near the fields, can i go? please?” tommy asks, trying to do some kind of puppy dog eyes on phil, but it just ends up looking like he got hurt.

“alright, okay. that’s fine,” his youngest cheers, throwing his fist in the air “but! don’t go touching it, i won’t heal up bee stings,"

“fine, fine! i can do that, phil! i'm the most friendly person these bees will ever see.” tommy declares, tubbo making a sound behind him to stifle any laughter. 

“and i don’t want to see you dragged back home by dream and george for going to deep into the forest! you know how much stress that puts on your old man.” he doesn’t know if tommy catches the last part as he whips back towards his friend, grabbing his arm happily as he starts up about any adventures they can take themselves on while hanging out. he sighs inwardly at the thought of what trouble they could manage to get into today. 

wilbur and niki stand off to the side, and phil waves them over as he moves to pick up the wheelbarrow next to the door. a large sheet is covering the sacks of potatoes in it. (a small marking is scratched into the side of it. it was one of the first sigils tommy learned, and he about put it on every belonging the family owned. phil can’t count the amount of times he’s heard someone cry out in surprise when they tried lifting the sheet.) the older pair walk beside him as they make their way down the path, tommy and tubbo following a few paces behind. 

the weather is nice. the sun warms the stones on the path and the bricks of the buildings as they walk towards the market. crowds of people are gradually growing more dense the closer they go. there's a welcome feeling of peacefulness deep in their bones, with no need to shake it off or away.

**Author's Note:**

> might flesh this out might not who knows but idk i'd love to make a cool au but there's so many good ones already im at a loss for ideas............ rrrggg au brainrot


End file.
